Games in the Playground
by P.A.W.07
Summary: Side's and Sunny like their pranks … but perhaps they weren't always pulling them for the reason everyone thinks. Ratchet/Twins. A gift for Neurquadic.
1. Prequal: A Memory

Games in the Playground Summary: Side's and Sunny like their planks … but perhaps they weren't always pulling them for the reason everyone thinks. Ratchet/Twins. A gift for N

Disclaimer: If only, if only, the little plot bunny sings.

Rating: Mature for later adult themes.

XXX

_When people are children, they pick on the ones that they like; pulling pranks and gags on them if only to have their eyes glance at them for a moment. Sooner or later, as the years drag on, this pranking's true purpose becomes more apparent along with the emotions that have been hiding behind the shallow shell of a game. This emotion is the most simple and hardest word of all … it is love._

_Cybertronians are no different when it comes to these games._

_It might just take a few thousand years, though._

…

The sky had always been dark on Cybertron, given that it had no sun, but right now it was alight with the missile fire while thousand warriors laid dying at the will and whimper of war. It was something Sunstreaker had never noticed nor admired before. In fact, it reminded him of the relationship he had with his brother. They were the red and the yellow flames of war, which always existed together.

But as they existed together … the also died together.

Not a lot was known about true twins, given that the war had been going on for so long that no one had time to properly look into the subject. Yet, there were three things that were almost always true when it came to twins. The first was that twins were not two separate beings, but in fact one split spark. The split had originally occurred because half the spark didn't wish to leave the safety of the Allspark, while the other half yearned to taste life, be it bitter or sweet to him or her. So it would split into two separate, yet in essence, the same being.

The second thing that was factual was that due the unwillingness of half the spark to leave the safety of the Allspark, one of the twins would be withdrawn or bitter. This would mean that despite the adventurous nature and even frisky attitude of his other half, twins would rarely show any romantic nature in separate femme or mech. Love thy brother first … and my lover later.

The third and most drastic rule of the three was a mere seven letters … when one dies, so does the other. Or at least that's what everyone thought … no twin would ever tell them different. It was just a fact of life; one didn't want to live without the other.

So, it was quite understandable that at this very moment, Sunstreaker was panicking, perhaps for the first time in his young life. After all, at this very moment it was everywhere. It was warm, dripping and spilling far and wide as if it were trying to escape death … trying to escape his brother and him, his brother's blood.

With a whimper of tearing gears, the yellow mech started crawling across the barren landscape that had once been a bustling city. He was in agony right now, but one would presume so with half of his left leg dragging behind him like shredded fabric. But it had been his own fault. Their present caretaker, who still had a little shred of sanity, had told them that they were not supposed to leave the base. Younglings, especially ones that were bright yellow, needed proper armor. Unfortunately, their systems weren't developed enough to carry the armor's full weight. Thus, he denied them the right to leave the younglings' care center to help the Autobots fight.

Yet, being young, one thinks of them self as almost immortal and indestructible to harm … until a hail of seekers flew overhead.

So now, thanks to either a well aimed shot or their bright paintjobs, Sunny was trying to pull his bleeding brother into his lap … what remained of his lap at least. The yellow twin's engine choked as he watched the glowing fluids roll down his lap, mixing with his own energon from the stump where his leg had once been. The yellow twin shivered as his hands twitched, wondering if he should touch the hole in his brother's chest or not.

"Side's," murmured Sunstreaker as he started petting the side of his brother's helm, trying to get him to turn on his optics. He was so scared. It was an emotion he barely showed and had never allowed the feeling to drip through his and his brother's link, but right now the emotion was just pounding though the connection, drowning out the entire battle around them.

"SIDE'S!" cried the yellow being as he started to shake his brother by his shoulders, "wake up! Don't die! Please don't leave me alone here!"

The yellow mech threw his head back in a wail of pain as his brother spark started to block itself off from his, Side's last gift to him. He was going to lock his spark so that Sunstreaker wouldn't die with him. The two had never uttered a word of it, but had agreed. If one died in battle, he would lock himself off from his brother so that they both wouldn't die.

Sunny had lied. It was a one way deal as far as he was concern. The world had no love for him. It had stomped and punished him from his very first step of life as if Primus was disgusted at his very presence … like he was dirty and filthy to look upon. That was why he struggled to be pristine as possible, to prove that he wasn't dirty or filthy or whatever it was that deserved him such punishment. Yet, the punishments seemed to come no matter how perfect Sunny's paint was nor how lovely his gloss, and somewhere along the line, he noticed that he was vain … cold … dead inside. So much so that most mechs wouldn't speak to him, look at him … love him.

No one loved him. They all loved Sideswipe. He could continue if Sunstreaker was gone, but he couldn't continue alone. Sunny didn't want to be punished again, to be alone for whatever unspeakable crime he most have performed, it was just unbearable. He would die with his brother.

"I won't remain alone here," and with that said, he slammed into the mental walls his brother had put up to protect him. Sunny cried out as he forced his way into the connection, clawing at it with his very spark. He could feel Sideswipe cursing him, begging him, demanding him to pull back … to please pull back. Yet, he would not listen. Sunstreaker continued in his onslaught on the bond until a cry escaped his brother from the other side, like a ghost fading into the night, and Sunstreaker embraced his brother's dying presence, hissing as death slammed itself into his systems as well.

After the initial shock was over, Sunstreaker started petting his brother's helm as if he had hair, his engine hiccupping in distress as his spark started to copy the pace of his brothers. The two sparks were now like a fading candle in the wind, nearly going out with every breath their engines pulled into their vents. And, despite the red brother's weak pleas over the connection, despite the darkness, Sunstreaker kept his brother's spark pace, his chassis trembling at the sudden loss of warmth. He'd die with his brother. He knew 'Side's would be angry with him for such an action, but really … what was there to stay for?

Suddenly, there was a crack of shifting ruble as a being ran past; perhaps, thinking them dead due to the amount of energon encompassing them. That is, until Sunstreaker growled, baring his dental plating like a wild dog as he pulled his brother's body closer into his chest.

The being suddenly stopped, dust gathering at his heels as he stared with wide optics. Another growl escaped Sunny as those blue optics slowly turned onto him, a mixture of shock and relief in the other's stare.

"Y-you're alive?" replied the stranger as the dust settled at his heals.

Sunny merely pulled his brother closer, his engine giving a hiss.

The being's optics shuttered for a moment in confusion as he lifted his hands in a peace sign, "Calm down kid, I'm a medic. I won't hurt you."

Sunny trembled as he internally fought with his options as the medic started towards them. He could let the medic look at Sideswipe. He could let him pull Sideswipe away and possibly save him … or Sideswipe could still die. The medic would probably then force him to stay alive. Sunny shivered at the very thought of being without his brother for even a moment, but if there was even the slightest possibility that he could survive, Sunstreaker would release his brother.

Yet, if Sideswipe were to die … the youngling would fight against that medic took and nail to die as well. He would not deny that.

With an ache in his spark, Sunny slowly unfolded his brother, allowing the stranger to see the being that was his brother. The stranger's optic almost twitched, but soon he was stumbling down he incline towards the two brothers. It didn't take long until the stranger was standing before Sunny, his engine panting. It was as if he was waiting for permission to kneel down as he looked Sunny in the optic, but Sunny did no such thing. He merely stared at the other as if he was trying to place were he had met this person. For, his spark told him that he did know this person.

The stranger slowly knelt down; still staring into Sunny's optics until a small gurgling noise escape the dying being before him … he did not hesitate in stealing Sideswipe from his brother. Strangely enough, Sunstreaker made no movement to reclaim his brother. He merely watched as energon pooled between the medic's fingers as he started stitching wires and closing off valves. Yet, the frown on the stranger's face didn't disappear, and he quickly threw a scan over Sideswipe's body. Suddenly, he was looking up at Sunny, his optics wide as if he had just been whispered a great truth about the universe.

With daring hands, the stranger started to reach towards the yellow twin, and Sunny nearly cried out in horror as the other grabbed him by the wrist pulling him closer. He stared into those blue optics for a moment, fear running through his systems and into his brother's side of the spark. No one ever touched him, not even a congratulatory pat on the back for a job well done. The only people who dared touch him, besides Sideswipe, where people who wanted to hurt him.

The medic noticed that the other being stiffened under his touch as if he were expecting to be hit. The stranger reached forward, cupping Sunny's chin, "You have to let go."

Sunny's optics shuttered for a moment, "W-what?"

The stranger leaned forward so he was mere inches from Sunny's face, close enough that if he were a lover they could kiss. The medic's spark hammered against its casing at the thought of what he was about to ask. He could kill them both … or keep one alive; it was still only a theory. But one life was better than two dead, "I need you to let go. You're a twin, a split spark, correct? You're killing your brother. His spark is weak and you slamming your spark into his half is stressing his already weak half of the spark. Let him go … cut yourself off from your brother."

A tint of fear quickly crawled into Sunny's optics. It was as if the medic had just asked him to kill himself. He couldn't even imagine existing without his brother, for even a moment, and what if it was a trick? What if he knew Sideswipe was about to die and wanted to trap him here, in the world of the living.

"No," growled the mech softly. He would not be tricked so easily.

The stranger stared at the other in shock. Great, just what he needed … he got the anti-social mech of the twins. It took all his self control, but he resisted the urge to beat the mech unconscious with a wrench. He reached out, ready to grab the mech by the shoulder and try to shake it out of him. Instead the medic got a punch to the face, causing him to fall back with a yip. Slowly, he sat back up, feeling the hinges of his jaw squeaking.

"You hit me you slagger," gripped the Stranger, part of him forgetting his bedside manner for a moment, not that he had much of one to start with.

Sunny growled and tried to leap forward, but he merely yelp out in agony as his shredded leg held him back. So, instead he threw a glare at the Autobot, trying to get in between him and his brother, "I'm no fool. You just want me to separate from my brother so he'll die alone and leave me here," a click escaped his vocalizer as he tried to push the sorrow out of his voice, but it broke through anyway, his voice soft and broken, "I-I don't want to be … alone. Nobody wants me here. I don't want to be alone."

The stranger's angry was drowned as quickly as it came, and before Sunny could even threaten to growl at the other for getting to close, the stranger had oddly encompassed him, pulling him into a tight hug and burying his head between his hand and his chassis. The yellow mech was still for a moment, his pump hammering in surprise. He had been expecting a hit or a punch to the face … nobody hugged, him except for Sideswipe. Yet, he could find himself unable to say or do anything. He was still as a stone, until the mech holding him spoke barely above a whisper, "Is that it? Is that why you are threatening both yours and your brother's life … you are afraid to be alone?"

Sunstreaker's optics dimmed and he cursed himself for showing even that much emotion … but he could barely feel Sideswipe right now. He could barely feel the beat of his spark whispering against him. For the first time … he'd admit he was scared to be alone. Sunny drew closer to the one holding him, his form shaking as his vocals expressed his fear, "Y-yes."

A soft smile escaped the mech that was holding him, petting Sunny's helm in a comforting manner. Slowly, he pulled the shaken twin away, looking into his optics, "Well, you're not alone. I'm right here."

The yellow mech said nothing, his lips inoperable and unable to speak any truth or lie. He was stunned … this stranger knew not even his name, yet he offered him the only thing he lacked: company.

"Now, let me fix your brother here, and then I'll patch up your injuries until we can get to a real medical wing. The silent bond may ache for a while, but it won't last forever."

And with that said, the area was silent until Sunny found his lips able to move, his eyes set on the stranger instead of his brother's repairs, "W-what's your name stranger?"

A huff escaped the mech as he reattached a leaking line, "You can call me Ratchet."

Yet, Sunny was never given time to says his as he passed out from the shock of his severed bond.

XXX

Sideswipe turned on his optics as he came out of the memory. It wasn't his memory, it was Sunny's and it was a memory that he hid from Sideswipe. Mind you, his brother hid things from everyone, but not him, and he didn't know about it. For the longest time he didn't even have a clue about his brother's guarded memory. But one night he crawled into his brother's berth as he trembled from one of his occasional nightmares, placing his chamber close to his brother's in order to tell him that he wasn't alone. In that moment, a slight tender moment, his brother's spark was open and unknowing that it was supposed to guard anything. It was a memory Sideswipe had dwelled on ever since.

"Hey 'Sides?" chimed in the grey gunner as he waved his hand in front of the front liner's face, "don't zone out on me like Sunny, 'kay? I have this wicked story I want to tell yah?"

The red warrior gave the gunner a questioning look, trying to ignore the feeling of shame in his spark. He had wanted something more from the gunner once upon a time, but … he couldn't leave Sunny. Speaking of which, Sidewipe looked over in his brother's direction and sighed. His brother was silently watching Ratchet as he poured himself another cube of high grade, a drunken laugh on his lips.

That was it. No more of this little game of tag in the playground. This game of chase had to come to an end.

XXX

Paw07: lol. I should win the 'Procrastinator of the Year' award for how bloody long I've been working on this … and it's not even done yet! Anyway, this is a gift for Neurquadic because she won the competition I had for Promise not to Tell, like months back. (slaps wrist for being so lazy). I've divided it out into three chapters because usually my one-shots are around 2500 words, but since I promised her 7000 words, I've divided the fic into three parts. Here's chapter one and two more to go.


	2. The Little Questions

**Note: Chapter one was mostly an introduction, so the tone in this chapter will be different.**

Chapter 2: The Little Questions

XXX

Why.

It is a simple word in and of itself, it can become complex, however, when it is used with the context of a sentence to make a full question. For the most part, Sunny had always thought that most questions were answered simply. One example: why are seekers such slaggers? Because they can fly overhead so they think they are above everyone else in more than one way; that's why they need to be brought down to earth every once in a while. Why is Prowl such a tight aft? Because he hasn't been laid in a few to may eons. What is the answer to the universe and everything? Forty-two. Why are femmes so rare? Because so many die young with high-heel related incidents.

Yet, not all questions were easily answered. Sometimes Sunny wasn't even sure if some questions actually had answers. The biggest too him was why he liked Ratchet? Which was followed with equally confusing questions like why he couldn't express this warmth in his chest whenever the medic touch him; or why he replayed his first memory of Ratchet over and over again as if it were more important than any other time he had been shot; or why he was, presently, laid out on the floor, pretending to be dead as his brother leaned over him with his 'materials' for his newest mastermind prank.

Sunny sighed as he looked away from the encroaching grin on his brother's face and turned off his optics, a kind voice resonating over his mind from an old memory on the battlefield. It wasn't as old as his 'secret' memory, but it was just as important. It was a time not so long ago, when he was reunited with his admiration. Yet, that memory was nearly drowned when coolant suddenly seeped between the plating of his shoulder. Sunny sat up so quickly that he nearly banged helms with his brother.

"What … are … you … doing!" growled out Sunstreaker as he gripped his brother's wrist, eyeing the cube of coolant wearily.

Sideswipe rolled his optics and started to pry Sunny's fingers off his wrist, "Making it look realistic. How are we supposed to fool Ratch' if you don't look dead? Now lay back down, dying mechs don't sit up and bitch about gettin' a little coolant in their wiring."

Sunny merely continued to glare at his brother, wondering if he should hit him.

Quickly, a wicked grin pulled itself on Sideswipe's face as he pull in closer to his brother's face, "Now, now, Sunstreaker keep your temper. How else are we, I mean you, supposed to attract Ratchet's attention? He'll never fall for the dead mech prank if you don't look like you're dead?"

Despite the thought of having coolant, and Primus known's what, collecting under his plating, the thought of Ratchet touching him was just too tempting. Yah, it would just be 'work' to Ratchet, but Sunny just wanted to have the other touch his armor, to feel his spark warm as Ratchet's fingers drew upon his chest as if he were … a lover? Sunny tightened at the thought. It wasn't love. No, no. It had to be infatuation and not love, that was the answer. The only being he could possibly love was Sideswipe. Primus had cursed him to never love. It had to be infatuation, praise to a hero and to the only person that had helped him as a child. It was hero's praise and nothing more or less.

Well … it could be love. Sunny wasn't sure. He had never loved before. Yet, the real question was, could he? If what he was feeling for Ratchet for the past few millennia was more than infatuation, could he say it? Would he want to? Should he? Perhaps Ratchet would merely laugh. Sunny wouldn't be surprised by that action. It seemed like something Primus would do to him, false security. Here he'd fall for the love trap god had laid out, only to have it turned into a horrible hoax where he'd get his spark broken if only for the amusement of Primus.

Sideswipe sat there, his optics dimmed as he stared at his brother with a pouty lip. He had cheered 'I'm done!' like a kindergartener that had just finished a finger painting, but Sunny hadn't noticed. The big idiot hadn't even flinched at the noise … he had to be thinking. Not uncommon since his brother had a thing for loathing and brewing, but Sunstreaker didn't have that usual frown on his face and his spark seemed … excited.

Sideswipe smiled slightly. If this prank went as planned, perhaps there would be one more warm body in the berth … and someone that Sunny actually liked. In fact, the more Sideswipe dealt on the thought, the more he wanted the Hatchet as well. But, he was more than willing to allow his brother have a turn first. Perhaps, his brother would than see that Primus didn't hate him as much as he thought the god did. He actually loved Sunny the most for sparing his spark so long from heart break, unlike him.

"Yo," interrupted the red twin, "Sunny, I'm –"

"Don't call me that."

"-done with your cosmetics," continued the hellion, not even phased by his mannequin's interruption. "Now, remember, Ratchet usually abandons his post around this hour so he should be by shortly. You just have to pop up and scare him and as he trips backwards in shock, I will push the button that activated the trapped door to the pit o' doom. Got that?"

Sunstreaker glared at his brother for a moment, trying to convince himself that Ratchet wasn't worth the brig time … but he was unable to convince himself of that, for even a moment. So, he turned off his optics and started to chill his body as he turned systems to their lowest outputs, his vents almost completely silent. What was the point of acting, if you weren't going to make it as realistic as possible?

Sideswipe merely smiled as he got up to go to his hiding place. He loved games, but this one had been dragged out entirely too long.

XXX

It was a nice day, not that Optimus Prime ever thought of any day was a particularly bad day. In fact, any day without Decepticon interference was a good day in his books. So, it was of no, or little, surprise that the leader had decided to leave his office for a little time to himself. He hadn't decided what he was going to do quite yet, but he was sure it would come to him as his hulking form wandered down the halls.

He could play a game of one-on-one, Basket Ball, with Jazz.

He could go take a drive with Sparkplug or Spike.

He could head down to the lake and take a quick recharge in the sun.

He could head to the Rec. room and check out these 'Soap Operas' that Perceptor found so interesting.

He could see if Sunstreaker was still alive.

He could – Wait! What?

The leader's feet came to an abrupt stop as he leaned back to glance back into the nearly empty storage room. His CPU was automatically chilled as he pulled his rifle from his subspace pocket. There was Sunstreaker, lying in the middle of the floor in a pool of his own fluids like he had been the victim of a horror movie slasher.

With agility someone wouldn't expect for a mech his size, Optimus made his way into the room in a very guarded manner since he expect a trap to be sprung by the perpetrator, but he was willing to take the risk. Sunstreaker wasn't a dull grey yet, but by the look of energon spilled on the floor, he didn't have much longer to live if someone didn't do something right now. So, with that thought in mind, Prime's foot made a sickening splash as he kneeled down in the energon, ready to assess the damage of his fallen soldier. Yet, his hands froze right above the yellow front-liner's chassis when a flash of red caught his optics, Prime only had time to look at Sideswipe in confusion before he let out a small yelp, gravity latching onto him as he fell downward.

However, quite unexpectedly, as the commander was hurled into the dark pit, he didn't land with a resounding crash, but a collection of squeaks. For a moment, Prime sat there in the darkness to afraid to look, but despite himself he turned on his headlight and looked to see what had caught him. There were thousands of them, and each one squeaked. Prime was sure he'd hate rubber duckies after this, whatever this was. But one thing was sure, Sideswipe would regret this.

XXX

Sunny quickly onlined his optics and looked to his side in question. He was sure he had just heard something … like a yelp and then a thousand strange squeaking noises.

-Sideswipe … did someone just come into the room? – questioned the twin over their link, afraid that Ratchet had caught on and just left.

- No- answered the red hell-fire a little too quickly as he glared at the spot where he had just dropped Prime – now, close your eyes and keep acting dead.

XXX

Paw07: This chapter was a little less drama-tastic, but I hope it was enjoyed nonetheless.


	3. To Dare

Chapter 3: To Dare

XXX

Prowl walked down the halls, vid screen in hand, a frown on his face. He had been looking for Optimus Prime during the last human hour and hadn't found him. It was very unlike Prime to just disappear like that without even a word as to where he was going, for that manner, to leave his office unlocked. Where could he have gone? Despite his worried nature, he found it best to continue looking for a few more minutes by himself. The last thing he needed was to tell the rest of the men and have this turn into a full blown riot, bots running around crying obscenities that Prime had been kidnapped by Megatron. Or worse … Jazz or the twins would find out. Oh, that would not be good. There would be something worse than a riot … a full scale party. Ugh.

The tactician continued to walk down the hall, his wings twitching as he unremittingly played this game of hide-and-seek-Prime. Where could he be?

He wasn't in the medical bay.

He wasn't in the Rec. room.

He wasn't the shooting range.

He wasn't in the practice room.

He wasn't in his quarters.

He wasn't in the storage room with a bleeding Sunstreaker.

He wasn't in …

Frag.

The tactician was against the wall in a quaking second, his gun pulled out and his optics wandering for signs of Decepticon activity. He didn't see any and his audios could barely pick up the sigh or soft hiss of Sunstreaker's vents. Given that dooming fact, it seemed he'd have to risk wandering into the room, but first he'd comm. Ratchet. It was not wise to step into a dangerous situation without someone knowing what was going on.

"Ratchet. Come in Ratchet," said the mech, his optics dimming for a moment in worry.

A grumble came across the line followed by medic's irritated tone, "This better be good, Prowl. If it's the twins… I don't care."

"Yes and no. Sunstreaker's bleeding out in storage room nine and I need back-up. I'm going in to access the situation," said Prowl as he turned off his communicator and rounded the corner, his gun pointed high. His optics roamed over the room as he searched for any signs of a potential threat. After his scanners had finished tasting every corner of the room, his feet started to pull him towards the frontliner. Yet, before he could even get on his knees to check and see where all the energon was coming from him, the ground swallowed him up like a hungry juggernaut.

A choking gasp escaped the tactician as he started to fall like an Alice to her wonderland. This was a trap after all. Megatron must have had the Constructicons dig a pit underneath the Ark, setting Sunstreaker out as bait and he had fell for it. Why hadn't looked to the ground for answers and noticed the obvious placement of the yellow titan's form. He had fallen for an ambush … and now all that was left was to crash.

Squeak!squeakkk-squeak- squeeeeek.

Or not. A sigh escaped the mech as he left his optics off for a moment, his hands becoming fists as he struggled to keep his cool.

"I'm going to kill them," said the mech, onlining his optics, a bit taken back as his sight was welcomed by four other pairs of optics in the gloom of the pit. Prowl sighed again, his wings dipping slightly. Well, at least he had found Prime … and Jazz … and Cliffjumper … and Ironhide.

"You and me both," grumbled Ironhide from the corner, his legs shifting slightly and causing a thousand squeaky ducks to speak in their irritating tune. "You and me both, Prowl."

…

Sideswipe rolled his optics as he watched the trapped door shut again. How many more was he going to have to trap until Ratchet showed up? The shock on their faces had been funny for the first few victims, but now it was just getting old. Not that he was going to stop, mind you, because nothing and nobody was going to ruin this moment for his brother.

No one … no matter how much he knew it was going to hurt when Prime and the others finally managed to crawl out of the pit o' doom. No one! But where was Ratchet! This was going to be pointless brig time if the Hatchet did …

The soft clang of footsteps filled the red mech's audios and with well timed ease, a head peaked around the corner. Speak of the devil.

…

Ratchet found his feet moving him forward as if he was a train on a predestined track. He had tried to call for some back up, but he couldn't get a hold of Prime, Jazz, Ironhide, or even Bumblebee. He managed to get a hold of Wheeljack, Brawn and Smokescreen; they were on their way with anyone they'd pick up in the halls, informing Red Alert that the Ark might have a possible break in. That wasn't his concern right now though. Prowl had sounded worried and he still hadn't called in. Sunstreaker must have been of a quickly decaying state for Prowl not to call in. He wasn't going to wait for the tactician to confirm anything anyway. He had a patient to get to.

It was silent when he finally got to the storage rooms. Ratchet generally praised silence, but for some reason it was just unnerving. True, this hall was no place for a social gathering, but still … something was wrong. His peds were silent as he crouched, sneaking down the hall like common criminal hiding from the light. His optics didn't capture any signs of a threat and he really didn't want to move before backup showed up … but he could smell energon … and it was cold. There was not an energon dispenser anywhere nearby so that meant that it had to be energon from a wound. He would wait no longer. Crouching low and making his way forward, he knew he had to save Sunstreaker. He cared for the twins despite his growly irritating behavior, and he would not allow one of them to bleed to death due to a questionable Decepticon agenda … if it was Decepticon at all.

With soft feet he trudged forward until he turned fast around the corner, gun held high. He was willing to fight for his patient if need be, but the only being he saw in the room was a downed mech on the floor. His feet were no longer quiet as the medic race forward, sliding on his knee beside Sunstreaker, leaving a trail of sparks in his wake. His fingers were automatically upon the mech's armor, feeling for wounds. From first glance it seemed he had terrible wounds, but now he didn't see much cosmetic damage. There was a lot of blood here though meaning that these wounds must have been coming from Sunstreaker's internals, the fluids seeping from the seams. The energon was starting to dry too, which could be a good thing or a really bad thing. Either Sunny's repair systems were starting to take care of the wounds or maybe the vital fluids were just starting to pool into any available cavity in the younger mech's internals, drowning important or even vital circuits.

Sunstreaker nearly jumped out of his chassis when he felt fingers on his form. It was Ratchet; he knew those fingers far too well not to realize who was now touching him. Whenever he was in the med bay he was entranced by them, sometimes even nearly overheating from their touch, like what he was feeling now. Slag, what was his brother doing? He said Ratchet would be in the pit o' doom by now, not … oh Primus! Ratchet was now feeling into his seams, and it felt so good.

Where was Sideswipe!

The yellow titan tried to resist, tried to ignore the careful and knowing fingers that traced up and down his chassis, plunging into seams and touching wires like a lover more than a medic. Finally, unable to take much more, Sunstreaker let out a gasp of pleasure when Ratchet got a little too close to his hip seam and arched his back.

Ratchet withdrew his fingers, immediately, the truth hitting him. He was arousing Sunstreaker … meaning the slagger wasn't injured. And if Sunstreaker wasn't injured then… Ratchet threw his gaze up blue optics meeting another pair of blue optics in the rafters. His optics nearly became slits as Sideswipe gave him a wicked grin and then, as if answering the medic's glare, he pulled out what looked like a controller of some sort.

"Sorry, Ratch'. This is for everyone's own good, especially Sunny," said the red mech and then the pressed the red button.

"Side-!"

….

"Slaggen, fraggen, no-good, glitch-head!" grumbled Sunstreaker as he laid there at the bottom of the pit, cursing his brother. What the slag was that about anyway? The prank had been meant for Ratchet, not him to. At least his brother had a little foresight and he landed on what seemed to be a collection of old mattresses … with a now unconscious Ratchet on top of him. If he had the ability the yellow twin would have blushed as he looked up at the unconscious face of the medic. The Hatchet had hit his head on the way down it seemed and Sunstreaker couldn't decide if he was glad about that predicament or not. He was still aroused, really aroused, and if Ratchet woke up to check him for wounds again … well, he didn't want to think about it.

Sighing, Sunstreaker looked up at the red and white mech once more. He could not recall why he did what he did after that, but he had a feeling it was purest thing he had ever done; he ran his hand over Ratchet's face. He allowed his artist's hands to feel each indent and seam. His mind recorded the way the medic's metallic lips felt on his finger tips, stalling there for a moment to absorb the feeling properly because he knew that he'd never get to touch those lips ever again and certainly not in the way he wished.

It felt like forever to Sunstreaker, his fingers memorizing the mech's face as if Sunny was blind and planning on making a sculptor of the features later. In truth, it was more like five minutes than forever before there was a soft warm sigh from the vents above him. The yellow twin's hand snapped away as if bitten and he held a baited breath praying he hadn't been the one to wake the medic, his fans still.

Slowly, the sigh turned into a murmured cursed and then Ratchet reached an arm upward. Sunny was afraid that the mech was going to touch his own lips, remembering that someone had touched him there. Instead, the red had reached upward and rubbed his cranium.

"Slaggen, red slagger, I'll turn him into a portable toilet and then send him to the nearest fat farm. Slaggers going to pay for that and Sunny … he's … Sunny?"

Sunstreaker quickly offline his optics, making it seem as if he had been knocked unconscious as well. It took all his self control not to twitch as an angry rev escaped the medic above him. Then, with a quick twist, Ratchet was sitting up … straddling the yellow, seemingly, unconscious mech. The angry rev turned into a frustrated sigh and a hand reached down and ran itself over Sunstreaker's cheek.

"Seems I wasn't the only one pranked here, huh, Sunstreaker?" said the CMO. "Now, hold still while a look you over. Not that I think you'll be moving. I don't see any dents in your cranium so hopefully it isn't anything serious."

A dry chuckle escaped the older mech and soon those excellently crafted fingers were roaming over Sunstreaker's form seeming to touch every inch. At first the yellow front-liner was able to strive off any reactions to the medic's touches and his perfect finger prodding.

Each second was growing harder though and it wasn't just because of the touches, they were perfectly profession –just like Ratchet always was– it was just that he had dreamed of this for years: alone in the dark with Ratchet, being touched by him, no prying optics to pull his medic away, no one to separate them.

That very thought broke him, his systems no longer signaling his body that these were non-sexual touches but one of a probable lover. His systems started heating up immediately despite the younger mech's inner pleas. Then, in reaction, his fans kicked on and his engine gave a satisfied purr when one of Ratchet's fingers rubbed against his ear-fin when the medic was examining his head.

The older mech made a choking noise and Sunstreaker was up, the opossum-play long gone and dead as the younger soldier pressed himself against the opposite wall, his engine whining for more touches and his optics looking anywhere but at Ratchet. The both knew what had happened. Sunstreaker's body liked the touches: the attention. Arousal might happen once by accident, but a second time … there was another reason than just a natural reaction. Sunstreaker could only hope that Ratchet wouldn't figure that out, but given the way Ratchet was looking at him: he doubted his reaction would be ignorance. Of course, the medic might have just been enraged by the fact that Sunny all but bucked him off.

"Sunstreaker…"

There was that solemn tone. He could only hope that Ratchet thought …

"…Do you like me?"

Sunstreaker's optics lit up the darkness that consumed them like a living pit as his gaze fell on Ratchet with a stunned expression. For a moment, the mech tasted the words jumble about in his vocals and there were a thousand words and thousand phrases: some were tales of his choking want; his admiration since youth, his silent wishes, and his unrequited love.

The only words that came out though were simplistic and carrying none of the passion that throbbed in his chassis, "E-everyone likes you, Ratchet. You put us together all the time, after all."

Ratchet's optics dimmed in the dark, his form shifting closer to the younger mech, and this time he was optic level with the nearly trembling sunshine-colored warrior. His face was expressionless as he asked, "Do you like me … in a romantic way? I've always noticed the extra attention that you've given me compared to the rest of our comrades, but I never expect that you like me. That is, until now. I know when I accidently arouse someone and when they are already aroused."

The silence dragged on for a few minutes like slim-mold dripping off a tree in some far off forest.

Ratchet was the one to break the silence again, "Well?"

The words that had been battling in his throat were now fighting in his head, circuits slamming into each other as each thought tried to claim dominance. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to flat out deny it and keep his pride. He wanted to just ignore the mech before him and pretend things could go back to normal. He wanted … so much more.

Looking up, mouth opening as his words tried to escape, Ratchet leaned closer. He was so close that Sunstreaker could smell the slight scent of oil and steel. So close … he could see the sheen of the glass to his optics. So close … he could kiss him.

Sunny couldn't stop himself, his dragging want for hundreds of years. He quickly covered the distance between him and the older mech, his lips crashing down on the elder mechs like a meteorite to the earth. Ratchet could only let out a surprised noise, which left just enough room for the golden warrior's glossa to enter the medic's wet cavity of a mouth. The medic could only stumble backwards in absolute shock at this action, too surprised to do more than allow the younger mech to taste him … in more ways than one. Soon, yellow hands were wandering over the body he had managed to pin beneath him like a conquered land.

He had wanted this for so long. Sunstreaker had only dreamed of such things. It could only be better if Ratchet would start kissing back. He needed this from Ratchet … he needed him. He needed someone other than his brother to feel love for him. He needed soft hands to want to touch him after he came back from the battlefield covered in blood. He needed someone that wouldn't shy away. He needed someone that wasn't afraid of him.

He needed someone that was a hero to him.

With desperate, shaking hands, his fingers found Ratchet's lower back and slowly he started to lay the other down completely on the ground. He wanted to take him. He wanted to have him. He wanted to feel another mind than his brothers that would not shy away as if he was filthy. But he needed to know … if Ratchet even wanted him.

"Ratchet," gasped the younger mech as he pulled away, his fans gasping as he hanged gingerly over the older mech who seemed to be gasping as well like the long kiss had actually taken his breath away. "Do… do you like…"

"Hey!"

And then the light rained down, drowning the fires that the fallen meteorite had laid onto the earth's surfaces, shunning its magnificent fire, the young mech pulling away.

"Is anyone down there!"

Ratchet merely looked up, still on his back and staring upwards at the blackened forms above him, his lips silent. But he smiled as he spoke, "Just us. Just the two of us. Sunstreaker and Ratchet."

There was a laugh, probably Wheeljack given the light that faded in and out from their dungeon's presence, the mech stating, "Give us a minute. First we need to get Jazz out or find a rope. Oh and Sunstreaker…"

The young mech stiffly looked up, thinking that the engineer was about to call him out for his earlier actions.

"You're brother is one dead mech," chuckled the white mech as his head disappeared, his humor evident despite the fact that Sideswipe could have seriously injured someone.

And so the slime-mold began to drop again but before it could hit the ground Ratchet spoke, his voice as slow as molasses, a grin on his face, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Sunstreaker. I think a part of me has always known … since that day I saved you and your brother on the battlefield."

Sunstreaker's optic nearly went black and he turned his head to the healer as if in shock, his look pained, "Y-you remember that? I was sure you'd forgotten."

"I'd never forget … two bright-colored idiots who think Seekers are blind," Ratchet was smiling despite how serious the circumstances have been. "Is that why you went into our unit? For me? Some might call that stalking, Sunstreaker."

The words weren't confused this time; they were amused. The words didn't fight or conflict but were snickering and happy, content. His thoughts were all pulled together, tight like melted stone. "Yes."

Ratchet smiled again up at the light, "Well… you've been chasing me a long time than, haven't you?"

Another silence which was interrupted by what sounded like a thousand squeaks followed by what he could only guess was Jazz's voice crying out, "Sorry Prime, didn't mean to drop yah. You're heavier than you look."

The older mech swallowed, turning his head to look at the sunshine mech. He looked the younger mech over for what felt like a millennia as if he were taking in every detail: the way the metal glinted in what little light there was, the shiver of his fans, each seams twisting line like a road through the hillside. Then, smiling, he stated in a husky dim tone, "I liked your kiss and I liked the taste of you. I'm willing to give it a try if you want to?"

The way Sunstreaker's optics brightened as if the sun was finally rising in a dark land told the medic all he needed to know. The gold titan smiled and with the speed and agility that betrayed his size as a frontliner, his fingers danced around the medic's intertwining as tight as a knot. And, in that moment of grasping hands, all Ratchet could think was that there seemed to be much more light down in this pit with them that beforehand. In the frontliner's happiness he lived up to his nick name.

Sunny.

Not even when Jazz's head poked over the edge, the mech laughing and stating he wouldn't drop either one of them like he had Prime, Ratchet couldn't think of anything but how bright and warm it was down in this pit.

Yet, before they were rescued, Ratchet had one last thing to say, "Why didn't we get any rubber duckies? That fall slaggen hurt!"

XXX

Paw07: Finally … finished. Sorry it took so long. I had a hard time because I don't mind the paring but I'm not really a fan. Nonetheless, this is technically the end: some Teen rated fluff and a slow beginning as I think romances really should be, but there may be an extra chapter with some 'sharing' going on. No promises though. I got a lot of stuff that needs finishing. I'm just glad I finally finished this sucker; so it's done for now.


End file.
